


Drinking in the Memories

by petalsandguitars



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Gen, Heavy Drinking, Pre-Canon, Pre-Movie, drinking game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 01:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13602825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petalsandguitars/pseuds/petalsandguitars
Summary: When Héctor fails to cross the marigold bridge that year, he finally has a place to go back to for the first time, Shantytown, but little did he know that its residents had their very own tradition for Día de los Muertos and so he finds himself dragged in the middle of a harsh drinking game.





	Drinking in the Memories

**Author's Note:**

> You can find my Tumblr post for this here: https://fedecolombo.tumblr.com/post/172669785077/.
> 
> Writing based on my own idea.

For Héctor Rivera a new year started on Día de Muertos, there was literally no other day he cared about.

His new plan for crossing the marigold bridge had not worked, again.

It was the third year in a row, maybe when Coco would have been older she would have put up his photo…

He had recently found a home in a place the residents simply called Shantytown and he was heading there after having just crumpled the warning paper from the police.

He reached the great archway, passed it and headed towards his bungalow.

‘Cousin Héctor!’ a young man called.

‘Epa, Héctor!’ another called loudly after the first.

He took a deep breath, ‘Hey guys,’ he said with a grin, ‘sorry but I’m gonna check out early tonight.’

‘Come on, it’s Día de los Muertos, you know what that means?’ one of the men said.

‘Of course he doesn’t, you idiot, it’s his first here, remember?’ said another.

‘Oh right,’ said the other, ‘come cousin, you’ll see!’

Héctor sighed, he just couldn’t say no to anyone in Shantytown, he had the feeling that could have turned into a problem someday.

They led him around a couple of corners and Héctor was surprised to see a sort of big platform, a clearing of mismatched pieces of wood, there were lots of stools and chairs and it seemed like all of Shantytown was congregating there that night.

Héctor noticed only when they approached that there were literally countless bottles containing a clear liquid scattered all over the place and enough shot glasses for an army.

‘A drinking game?’ he said, to no one in particular.

‘It’s our tradition,’ said someone who purposefully slammed into him quite unceremoniously as he passed him, Héctor recognised his voice and rolled his eyes, ‘Good evening to you too, Chicharrón.’

To that, Chicharrón let out a throaty laugh, ‘Have a seat, newbie, there’s no escaping this and you better get used to it,’ he said and then shrugged, ‘or… find another place to crash at, I’d go with the first.’

‘You went with the first,’ said Héctor.

‘Sure did,’ concluded Chicharrón with a sly smirk before he picked a low stool to sit on.

The chairs and stools were arranged in sort of a wobbly circle and Héctor was hesitant, he didn’t feel like drinking, and least of all while playing some game.

He was about to turn back and try to nonchalantly walk away but he bumped into someone the second he spun round.

‘Sorry!’ he said right away, ‘Tía Chelo,’ he said then when he realised who it was.

She looked at him, ‘Don’t worry, mijo,’ she smiled knowingly, ‘trying to escape?’

‘Yes, actually,’ Héctor smiled nervously.

‘Oh, come Héctor,’ she said gently, ‘this game may come off as harsh but it helped many of us get to terms with our… condition.’

Héctor had to smile, of all the people he had met there, he thought Chelo to be his favourite, ‘Alright,’ he said then.

She simply gave him a smile and took his arm, leading him to a couple of stools, standing almost facing directly Chicharrón from the other side of the circle.

In a few minutes the whole of Shantytown was sitting in chairs, stools and even the wooden boards of the pavement.

Héctor found out that Chicharrón was pretty much the patron of this when he yelled, ‘Shut it, everyone!’ at some point to which everyone fell silent with giggles and soft laughter.

‘For our newbies of the year,’ he continued, ‘game’s easy, you get asked one question, if you answer truthfully, it’s someone else’s turn, if you don’t, you drink and get asked again, you don’t pass the round until you answer at least one.’

Héctor didn’t really like the sound of that and as the thought that he could always have lied crossed his mind, Chicharrón added, ‘We have a rather special alebrije here, kids, when someone tells a lie, you can hear it whine from underwater.’

 _Oh great_ , thought Héctor.

But then his attention drifted away as the game started, he could hear but wasn’t listening, he was thinking of his Coco, his Imelda and how she was probably not his anymore.

He came back to reality when the guy next to him shoved a bottle and a shot glass into his hands, ‘Your turn, cousin!’

‘Ok,’ Héctor said tentatively, ‘who – who has a question for me?’

And at this point, if he had had paid any attention, he would know what was coming but he hadn’t and so he was completely taken off guard when someone shouted from across the circle, ‘Who’s forgetting you?’

‘No – no one,’ he said on reflex and he heard for the first time a low groaning noise which was greeted with much laughter from all around the circle.

‘Lie, drink,’ several said.

Héctor sighed and poured himself a shot, chugged it in one and raised the glass to a general round of applause.

‘Next question then?’ asked Héctor.

‘Who’s forgetting you?’ someone else shouted.

Héctor almost groaned, of course they would insist on one question, and if he had to drink for everyone in the circle, well, could skeletons go into a coma from drinking?

‘My family,’ Héctor admitted then he zoned out of the game until the bottle and shot glass were shoved again in his lap.

‘Who’s part of this family forgetting you?’

He felt his ribcage heave in distress and anger, ‘No one,’ he said before he could think it through and again was called a liar.

He drank and the same question was asked to him again, ‘My parents,’ Héctor lied, hoping the lie would pass but again the unseen alebrije sung its dreadful song.

‘Two lies, two shots!’ someone called and Héctor obeyed.

He steeled himself and the question was once again asked.

‘My wife, maybe my daughter…’ he admitted.

He felt Chelo’s hand on his arm while silence fell amongst the players before they resumed the game.

‘Héctor,’ said Chelo softly.

‘What?’ he replied quite harshly.

She smiled gently despite that, ‘We all did this, it helped us.’

‘How?’ Héctor asked, voice shaking, still not looking at her but straight in front of himself, yet seeing nothing.

‘It just did,’ she said softly.

Héctor closed his eyes and decided he didn’t care anymore, he would tell the truth and get this over with quickly.

But he was wrong, each time it was his turn, he found himself lying and drinking, drinking more.

Soon, he was the only one who was definitely drunk, the two other newbies, as Chicharrón had called them, joined him quickly.

‘How did you die?’ someone decided to ask before Héctor would be too drunk to even understand them.

‘Go to hell,’ Héctor answered and the alebrije’s song was muffled by raucous laughter.

Héctor drank before he was asked to, and the question was asked again.

‘I got food poisoning!’ Héctor shouted with a smirk before he took a swig directly from the bottle of Tequila that he was holding.

‘You answered, you don’t have to drink!’ someone said to a round of laughter and applause.

Héctor tipped on his hat and carried on drinking, the others seemed to be done with him, because he was not addressed again.

And he kept drinking and drinking, memories swimming in his head until everything felt foggy and distant.

It was nearing sunrise when his weight was almost completely carried towards his bungalow by Chelo and Chicharrón.

He left as soon as they had put Héctor in bed, but Chelo sat by his side.

She took off his hat and laid it aside then stroked his hair gently, like a mother would.

‘Oh Héctor…’ she said softly.

He was half-asleep but groaned in response to hearing his name.

‘Sleep, dear boy,’ she said gently, she regretted he too had had to go through Shantytown’s harsh game, ‘drinking in the memories has never been easy… for any of us.’

And so Chelo stayed there all day, Héctor woke up only by next night.

As the memories of the game came crashing down clearly on him, he started sobbing without tears and Chelo held him close.

Héctor found himself telling her his whole story between sobs and even though he couldn’t see her, she had her face screwed up in pain for this boy she barely knew.

‘I just wanted to go back home,’ Héctor sobbed.

Chelo held him tighter to her, and kept stroking his hair, rocking him gently in her arms.

‘I just wanted to go back…’ Héctor started repeating over and over, until the excruciating pain had him to the point of exhaustion and that had the best of him.

He fainted in Chelo’s arms, who carefully laid him back in bed.

Again, she stayed by his side, and that night an unbreakable bond of pain and love was born.


End file.
